You can't cross the same river twice
by penniewise
Summary: When Dante was fourteen years old, he moved with his adoptive parents to the small town of Meadows Creek. Its not a good place, and things get worse. CONTINUED!
1. First chapter

This story was created from an idea sparked by Avril Lavigne's song _Sk8er boi_, fuelled by Linkin Park's _Hybrid Theory_ album (set on repeat) and completed in a day. It is also modelled after a friend of mine. He was kind of short and plump during his school days. Because of that he was bullied but he eventually got mad and then he got even. Now he's 6'2!

Also known as the stomach story. No monsters here but me.

Disclaimer: Don't own Dante or Trish. And wouldn't touch Rick with a ten foot pole.

**You can't cross the same river twice**

_No man can step into the same river twice,  
__for the second time it's not the same river,  
__and he's not the same man._

_-Heraclitus_

* * *

"Hey, freak! What'cha starin' at!" 

Dante lowered his head and tried to fade into the background. But he was too late. The fist that slammed into his shoulder sent him back against the wall. Another fist flew at his face and, without thinking, he ducked. That was a big mistake. His reward was two hard blows to his stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

"You little shit. Getting' cocky, ey?" The breaking voice of his worst enemy scratched at his nerves. Dante braced himself, anticipating the next blow. To his relief the sound of the school bell rang out over the school yard. That saves him from the usual massive beating, even though it did not stop his attackers from one last cheap shot. They slammed him against the wall, making his head hit the rough surface with mind numbing force. He closed his eyes for a moment; only to see black spots swarm his vision.

He could sense the others move towards the building, leaving him standing alone in the yard. When the sounds of retreating footsteps died away he opened his eyes. Pushing away from the wall he gingerly felt the back of his head with his fingers. They came back covered in blood. With a sigh he started walking towards the restroom in order to clean himself up. Again. Just an ordinary day of school.

-

-:-:-:-:-

-

"Hi, sweetie! How was school? Did you learn anything interesting today?

_Yes, how it feels to have a concussion._ "Hi,Jenna. Same as always." Dante strolled into the kitchen, sniffing at the scents that flowed toward him. Whatever else she was, Jenna sure was an excellent cook. His mouth watered as he saw the brownies she just had pulled out of the oven.

"No, not until after dinner," Jenna said when she saw Dante edge closer to the table where the delicious cookies was laid out to cool down. "And Ben is coming home tonight so you'd better save some for him, too."

"Is Ben coming?" Dante could not hide the smile that instantly tugged at his lips. Ben was coming home. He had been gone for weeks. Both Ben and Jenna would go on long business trips, not really telling him what they did when they were gone. They took turns going, so he would not be left alone. When they were at home they never did anything even resembling work. Jenna usually honed her culinary skills to perfection and spent the evenings with Dante, watching horror flicks or playing Dungeons & Dragons. Ben spent hours reading, or teaching Dante how to repair motorcycles.

Even though the loss of his real family still ached inside him and always would, he had settled down with his foster parents, who later became his adoptive parents. They were extraordinary, going to any lengths to make him happy. Shortly after the adoption papers were signed, they had left their small apartment in the city and bought this house in this small town, Meadows Creek. There was nothing like growing up in a small friendly town, Ben had said. He was right, but not in the way he had intended. Nothing was like growing up in a small friendly town when you where…different.

It had started on his first day of school. Standing by the teacher's desk he could feel the stares and hear the whispers. _What's wrong with his hair? Is it real? He looks like a freak! He's probably been in an accident. Scared shitless. His hair turned white._

It was not white, it was silver, or more like platinum, a white metallic sheen to it. Jenna and Ben liked his hair. They said it was a reminder of his father, an inheritance. Jenna had lovingly run her hands through it before she cut it in the crew cut he preferred now, trying to avoid the attention his hair generated.

During the few months they had lived here he had started to wish that he had inherited something else from his father. The colour of his hair was what had triggered this constant bullying. Nature abhors a vacuum. And ordinary people abhorred those that were different.

His week days consisted of classes, beatings, trips to the rest room and time spent covering up the traces of his total defeat. His attackers were not that superior in height, he was almost as tall, but in weight and muscle he could not challenge them. His worst enemy, Rick, was built like a bulldozer and just as smart. His gang of followers were like marionettes, mindlessly obeying his every command. They had started picking on Dante during the first recess. His initial attempt to defend himself had been futile, him being both outnumbered and outweighed.

That day he had spent his free period tending to his wounds, a split lip and a large bump on the head. Not to mention the ache in his stomach, originating from multiple jabs to his abdomen. To his surprise he healed quickly. When he had wiped the blood from his lip it barely showed and the bump slowly disappeared during the day. When he returned home to Jenna and Ben, no tell tale signs could alarm them of what had happened. And that was just how Dante wanted it. They had left their life to bring him here, trying to give him a good childhood. He would not let them think that he was ungrateful. He would keep his mouth shut; maybe things would improve later on.

But, unfortunately nothing had changed. The months went by and Dante was slowly beginning to blame himself. It was his fault the kids bullied him. His ability to heal quickly seemed to infuriate them. He was doing everything wrong, looking wrong.

He had felt how he slowly cracked inside, the constant attacks wearing him down, leaving him empty. His only safe place was at home, within the loving sphere that was created by his adoptive parents.

Today, however, something had happened to him. The feeling inside had changed. Something was welling up to replace the void. Something that was buried deep down; a darkness that roared at his opponents, struggling to get to the surface. Images started to flicker in his brain. Images filled with blood and the terrified faces of his enemies as something hunted them down. Something huge, something horrible. It was him. He could feel his _CLAWS_ tearing through their flesh.

He threw himself on the bed, staring at the ceiling. It was getting dark outside. Jenna was doing the dishes, while he was supposed to do his homework. Ben was coming soon. He had called from a pay phone a few towns away. Hopefully there would be no more trips for a while. Dante wanted both Jenna and Ben around. He needed their support.

He had almost drifted into an unintentional sleep when the growing sound of a bike roused him. He jumped from his bed and skidded out of the bedroom, almost falling down the stairs.

"Ben's here!" he shouted as he yanked the front door open. Slowly walking up to the porch was the man that had given him a home, security.

Ben's strong face was lit up by a wide grin. He looked at the lanky youth standing in the doorway, noting how he had grown. The next thing he knew he had two pairs of arms embracing him. Jenna had silently sneaked up to him and Dante had taken a leap from the opening. He dropped the heavy bag he was carrying and put his arms around them, giving them a bear hug.

The next day was Saturday so Dante put all his hurts and bad thoughts aside. Ben and Jenna took Dante on a picnic in the park and later on they all went fishing. The entire batch of brownies was gone by the end of the day. Dante revelled in this short escape from the hell that he had to endure in school.

-

-:-:-:-:-

-

Monday. Another day in hell. Dante walked through the gate and looked up at the building in front of him. How could a place that looked so ordinary hold so much terror and pain? He knew that he was not the only victim of the bulldozer gang. There were others, cowering just like him, trying to fade into the background. A spark of anger made him grind his teeth. If he only was stronger, bigger. The images returned. Screams, blood, growls, fury.

The bell rang, time to go to class. The first part of the day went by without trouble. Then lunch hour came. Dante took his lunch bag from his locker and went outside to sit under a tree. Jenna had packed his lunch, putting in bites and pieces left over from the picnic. A soda, chicken salad with curry dressing, garlic bread and an orange. Dante smile at the memories from the passed weekend.

"What're you grinning at, freak?" Rick booted Dante in the ribs. The thick grass of the lawn had silenced his steps and Dante had been lost in thought, otherwise he had heard him. The sudden pain made him growl. _Not again._ He was tired of this. Every blow he had been give and every name he had been called rushed into his head.

He stared up at his bully, feeling the darkness rise, triggered by the sudden anger. He slowly got to his feet; his gaze fixed firmly into the eyes that mockingly met his. Icy blue eyes meeting grey.

"Are you gettin' cocky again?" Rick smirked, not feeling intimidated by this scrawny fourteen-year-old. After all he was seventeen and muscular. He could easily take this shrimp, even if his gang had not been backing him up.

They stood face to face, now equal in height since Dante had grown during the last few months. The gang members were closing in tightly. Rick made the first move and jabbing his clenched fist into Dante's stomach, his favourite spot. Dante bent over slightly, gasping for breath. His head started buzzing and in his mind a growl was growing stronger.

He was hit again, this time a blow from behind to his kidneys. A tingling started to crawl over his skin.

A whack to the head and the tingling enveloped his body. He suddenly recognised the feeling. This was what he had felt when his mother and brother had been killed. For an instant it had filled him and it had been sweet. Rage flowing through every vein, seeping through every pore. He embraced it.

He sensed a fist flying at him and instinctively blocked it. Another fist was caught in the air, the vicelike grip making his assailant cry out and fall to his knees. Dante straightened up, again meeting the gaze of Rick. This time it was not mocking. Fear was beginning to show in the big bully's eyes. Dante felt a feral smirk adorn his face and with a perfect mimic of Rick's voice he asked:

"What'cha starin' at?"

Rick could only try to swallow the knot in his throat. The look in Dante's eyes chilled him to the bone. He had never seen such fury. He was interrupted in his thoughts as his gang, all ten of them, simultaneously jumped Dante, the sudden assault making the fourteen-year-old boy fall to the ground. Rick stepped back to avoid being hit by the flailing arms.

A hand landed on his shoulder and with a yelp Rick spun around. His movement turned into a fall, head first onto the lawn, as the hand pushed him aside. Rolling over onto his back he say a tall man grab the gang members by the nap of their necks and flinging them aside as if they were pieces of garbage.

-

-:-:-:-:-

-

"Dante. Dante! Wake up!"

A hand was brushing through his short hair, somehow brushing away the pain. He opened his eyes. _Ben._

"Hey Jenna, he's awake."

Another face floated into focus. Jenna's eyes shimmered with unshed tears mixed with anger. Her hand replaced Ben's, slowly feeling its way down the side of his face. As Dante's vision cleared he saw that he was lying on his back under a tree. _I'm in the park? Did I fall asleep?_

Suddenly the memory returned and he tried to sit up. Jenna held him down with a gentle but firm hand.

"You're not going anywhere, mister. Just lay down. Everything is all right."

Lying back he replayed the previous events in his head. Rick and his gang had attacked him, he had attacked back. Sounds of screams echoed in his head. Even when they had piled over him he had fought back. _CLAWS_ connecting with bone and flesh. A sudden strike to the head had made him see stars. Someone had used a stone, trying to bash his head in. Then darkness had fallen.

Ben and Jenna shared a look over the head of their adoptive son. Ben had come to school because Dante has forgotten his math book at home. Suddenly sensing danger he had walked towards the grass covered part of the school yard. As he approached, he caught sight of Dante, surrounded by eleven boys, all a little older then him. Dante was hunching slightly. Suddenly he straightened and looked at the boy directly in front of him, saying something. Ben could not make out what it was; he was still to far away. When the rest of the boys all of a sudden threw themselves over Dante, Ben suppressed a curse. He started to run, trying to reach the pile of fighting boys as quickly as possible.

When he had finally found Dante's unmoving form under the fallen bodies, he let out a sigh. Ben could see that he was still breathing. He would be okay, even though he had a nasty cut in his scalp. The blood flowed over his face and stained the grass.

Looking around, his gaze fixed on the boy lying on his back in the grass, the only one that was still conscious.

"Go and find a teacher. Tell him or her to call Jenna Smith. Now!"

Rick crawled to his feet and went running. The tone in the man's voice commanded instant obedience.

Not many minutes had passed before Jenna's motorcycle skidded to a halt outside the gate. She ran through it and, looking around, caught sight of Ben sitting under a tree beside a familiar figure. She ran towards him, letting her helmet fall on the grass.

"Oh my god! Ben, what happened?"

"Some morons attacked him. Apparently someone hit him in the head with a stone during the brawl."

Jenna pulled off the scarf that she has around her neck and started to gently wipe away the blood.

"He's already staring to heal. He'll be fine in a moment."

"He'll have a hell of a headache, anyway. Look at this."

Ben held up a stone bigger then his clenched fist, blood still covering one side.

"What were they doing? Trying to kill him? Good thing he takes after his father. Demons aren't that easy to kill."

"Yeah. Maybe you should wake him up, Ben."

"Dante. Dante! Wake up!"

-

-:-:-:-:-

-

Dante sat at the kitchen table staring at his bag. How could a life fit in such a small bag? Ben and Jenna were travelling just as light, packing their few possessions into the bags strapped to their bikes. They were leaving a lot behind. But nothing would be missed. The small town life was not for them after all. Being devil hunters was not something you could tell your neighbours about. The narrow-mindedness that had reared its ugly head after the little incident at school was a sure sign. Ignoring the fact that it was local boys that had started it, everyone focused on the fact that Dante had rendered all ten of his attackers unconscious.

They decided to move. Especially now that Dante's demonic powers had started to manifest themselves, the anonymity of a large city was to prefer.

He had stared at them for several minutes when they told him. He could not believe what they were saying. _I'm half demon? That was what I felt? My demonic powers awaking? _After they had brought him home that day the truths had surfaced. Both his and theirs. He had told them of the hell he had gone through in school and they had told him about his origin… and their profession.

Ben had told him that now his training could start. He would train to become a devil hunter just like them. Soon he would be able to revenge his family, kill the monsters that lurked in the dark.

His thoughts were interrupted as Jenna stuck her head through the doorway leading into the hallway.

"Coming, sweetie?"

"Yeah, I'll be right out." Dante took his bag and looked around the kitchen one last time. He did not fell sad. This town held no fond memories for him. The best memories from this place had been with Jenna and Ben and they were leaving with him.

He locked the front door behind him as he stepped out on the porch. Ben sat on his bike adjusting his helmet. Jenna was standing by hers, waiting for Dante. He walked up to her and handed her the bag. She fastened it onto her own bags and then got on the bike. Dante put on his helmet and took his place on the seat behind her, putting his arms around her waist. The two bikes roared to life and they rolled out onto the street. Slowly cruising through the neighbourhood they saw curious people sitting on their porches or staring at them whilst standing in their immaculate gardens. Sporting identical smirks Ben and Jenna looked at each other.

"Hold on." Dante heard Jenna's voice clearly and tighten his grip. The bikes willingly obeyed their owners' commands and with a defiant roar they sped through the remaining length of the street, lightly skidding into the curve. Pressed close to her back Dante could hear Jenna laugh. Laugh at the chocked faces of the few people that had dared to ventured out of their houses to watch them leave. Laugh at the stupidity of people, fearing the ones that kept them safe.

-

-:-:-:-:-

-

**Present day **

Ring, ring.

"Devil Never Cry. Yes. A demon? Where? Okay."

"Another job?" Trish leaned back in the couch, looking at Dante's frowning face.

"Yes."

"Where is it?"

"Meadows Creek."

"Oh? Oh!" The information sank into Trish's brain. Meadows Creek. That was where Dante has lived a short while when he was still a child. In a brief moment of open-heartedness he had told her about some of the things that had happened there.

"Are we going?"

"Yes."

-

-:-:-:-:-

-

The two bikes swished past the town limit. The silhouette of the small town was approaching fast. Dante felt a knot form in his stomach. It felt just like when Rick had hit him, repeatedly.

"You okay?" Trish's voice whispered in his ear.

"Yes." Dante spoke into the small head set that was built into his helmet, allowing him to communicate with his partner.

"Let's kill the freaking demon and get out of here, okay? This place gives me the willies."

"You haven't reached the first house yet, Trish." Dante's dry comment made her look at him over her shoulder.

"So you're looking forward to see this place again, are you?"

"No." He heard her give a snort in response to his reply.

In silence they continued towards the centre of town, heading for the police station.

-

-:-:-:-:-

-

Strolling out of the police station Trish looked at the map they had been given.

"It looks like it's a couple of miles outside of town. It might take a while to get there, hunt him down and drag his ugly butt back here."

"Yeah. Should we take a bite first? Can't work on an empty stomach."

"That sounds like the best idea you've had so far."

Across the street they spotted a large window proclaimed that inside was the best little diner in town. Probably the only diner in town, if Dante's memory served him correctly.

"There?"

"Okay."

"I'll just be a minute. Running low on gas. You?" Dante started his bike.

"I have plenty left. Unlike some, I remember to fill it up from time to time." Trish gave him a dismissive wave and crossed the street. Dante slowly drove a few blocks. The gas station was still where he remembered it to be. Nothing had changed. He quickly filled his tank, paid and headed back.

Parking his bike outside the diner he could see Trish sitting at the counter. Her slim leather clad body and long blonde hair was attracting attention. All the men inside, and some of the women too, stared at her. The fact that she had a gun strapped to either thigh didn't lessen the sensation value. Not even the jingle of the doorbell when Dante entered could break the spell.

Suddenly a gasp did what the doorbell couldn't. Behind the counter a woman was staring at Dante with eyes as big as saucers. She seemed slightly familiar. Then it dawned on him. It was Mary Grogan, the most popular girl in school. She had been Rick's girlfriend when Dante left.

He felt all eyes shifting target. Ignoring them he walked up to Trish and seated himself on a stool beside her.

"Ordered yet?"

"Yeah, I ordered a large steak for you and a beer. Fries on the side."

"Good. I'm starving."

A finger tapped Dante's shoulder. He ignored it, concentrating on getting his food and getting out if here. Trish was right; this place gave you the willies.

"Hey, freak boy! Don't you try to ignore me!"

Dante slowly turned his head, letting his body mimic the motion. He slowly took in the sight of the man that once had been his worst enemy. Rick. No longer seventeen, his large body had lost its muscle tone and now a large beer belly hung over the belt that held his sagging jeans up.

"Heh, knew it was. Can't mistake that freak hair of yours." A sly grin covered Rick's face. During the years, he had suppressed the memories of what had really happened that fateful day. When first asked, he had made up a story and then repeated it so many times he believed it himself.

Dante looked him in the eyes and heard as from a distance Trish telling the waitress to make the order to go. Feeling her hand on his arm he blew a lock of his platinum hair out of his eyes and slid of the stool. The movement put him inches from the bulk of Rick. Stranding up straight Dante looked down at his former bully. Dante, being 6'3, was a foot taller.

"You want something, Rick? I have a demon to kill and I don't like wasting time." As if unintentionally Dante's coat slid open, revealing the sheen of Ebony and Ivory at his thighs. Rick's eyes bulged, all coming back to him. He looked up again and found himself locked in the icy gaze of the devil hunter, the eyes starting to shimmer with red light. He gulped and slowly tried to sidle out of the way, sensing that Dante was just as likely to walk through him as around him.

"N..no. J..just wanted to say hi." His voice ended in a nervous high tone.

"Well, I don't." With forceful strides Dante reached the door.

"Coming, Trish?"

"Right behind you, Dante."


	2. Second chapter

Warning! Contains scenes of explicit violence and gore. I had to up the rating for this one; it turned more bloody than I expected.

_I am borne darkly, fearfully afar…_

_-Percy Bysshe Shelley_

* * *

_I Hate This Face_. Trish stared at the cracked mirror, her hands gripping the sink. The multiple mirror images seemed to smirk at her. She could never escape it, it was always there; her face…Eva's face.

Almost a year had passed since she had helped Dante defeat Mundus and escape Mallet Island. Presently they were on a mission in this small town, Meadows Creek. It had held ghosts for Dante, forgotten ghosts from his childhood. Trish could never forget her ghosts; she carried them with her wherever she went. There was no escape. _I Hate This Face!_ Her fist smashed into the reflecting surface. Glittering pieces shattered and the smirking faces fell to the floor. Gone. For now.

A knock was heard on the rest room door and she mentally shook herself. Not the place for this. Not bothering to protect her hands from cuts, Trish scooped up the shards that had fallen into the sink, dropped them on the floor and kicked them into a corner.

She rinsed the blood from her hands and dried them off on a paper towel. The cuts had already healed. This ability she had often cursed.

She walked out to the parking lot where Dante sat on a bench. The remains of their improvised picnic had just been sent sailing through the air and into a trash can. With the other hand he was absentmindedly twirling Ivory. Trish let her eyes roam over the relaxed devil hunter. His handsome face was sporting a content smile. He had dealt with some of his demons and had come out the winner. He had also just gulped down a giant steak and a large stack of fries. Trish smiled, he could eat incredible amounts of food and yet, he had not an ounce of excess fat on his body. A body that Trish could not, for the life of her, keep her eyes off. She had recently admitted it to herself. She had fallen for him.

_Damn it, Trish_, she cursed herself. _Forget it, there is no way._ She had reached the bench and Dante looked up at her.

"Hey, babe. What's with the frown?" he smiled at her for a second and then the smiled fell. He knotted his brow and reached out to stroke a finger across her cheek. It came back smeared with blood.

"Did you have any trouble in there?" He looked towards the rest room and his eyes grew dark as a trucker exited. Trish followed his gaze and quickly put a hand on his shoulder.

"Nothing I couldn't handle. A mirror…broke. I just cut myself." She let out a relieved sigh as Dante seemed to relax a little. He was a tad overprotective at times. _I remind him of her._

She sat down beside him and took a leftover napkin to clean the blood from her cheek. As she idly gazed out over the street she saw someone approaching from a distance. It was a woman and as she came closer Trish recognised her. It was the waitress that had stood behind the counter in the diner. She stopped in front of them, holding a package in her hands.

"Hi, Dante. You probably don't remember me, Mary Grogan. We went to school together." She gave him a charming smile and gazed into his eyes.

"Hello…Mary." Dante smiled back and let his eyes drift over her. Trish could see how Mary's smile turned into a complacent grin.

"I brought you some apple pie. I made it myself." She handed the package to Dante, paying no attention to Trish who had to suppress a sudden urge to electrocute something. Or someone.

"I'll go and…buy something." Trish got up and stalked away. She heard Dante mumble something in reply as she passed behind Mary's back. She crossed the street but instead of going into a store she went into a nearby alley. She stepped into the shadows and put her back against the cold stone wall. If she turned her head she could still see the bench. She clenched her fists as small golden sparkles started to creep along her arms. _That's it. When this mission is over I'm gone. I can't take this any more. I Hate This Face!_

She slowly slid down the wall until she was sitting on the pavement. She put her arms protectively around her head as images started to invade her brain.

-

-:-:-:-:-

-

_Aarrgghhh, please, stop! Nooo-_ she felt blood spilling from her side, dripping from her naked feet. The claw withdrew and the hope that it was over sparkled in her mind. She tried to inhale but her lungs were not cooperating, one of them was punctured from the feel of it. A sudden sting across her back shattered her hope of rest. The claws gripped her throat and drew blood.

"Watch her face. That you may not scare." The deep terrible voice of her master echoed through the cave. He watched her torture with a smile on his face. The light from his three eyes illuminated his grim features.

"Now, my dear. Repeat your orders."

"I'm bait. I'll try to lure the son of Sparda to Mallet Island," Trish stuttered. The effort of speaking made her jaw hurt and she could feel the taste of blood in her mouth. The award for her efforts was a blow to her already broken arm. She gasped and could not stop the instinctive charge of energy that flashed from her hand. One of her assailants yelped and Mundus laughed.

"There's some spark in you yet, my dear clone." He waved at another goblin to take its wounded comrade's place. "But you did not repeat your orders correctly, you will not try, you will succeed." With a gesture he ordered the goblins to punish her for her mistake and insolence. The screams lasted for hours.

Trish woke up with her cheek pressed against a smooth stone surface. The dried blood itched and she could feel the pieces of her broken bones grind against each other as she took a breath. _If I could only die._ She was repeatedly put to the brink of death during these sessions, but they always stopped before she could slip into the blessed nothingness.

Not having the strength or ability to move she lay on the cold floor, staring into the dark and letting her body heal itself. A glimpse of light caught her eye. With a grimace she tilted her head, hearing the vertebrae in her neck crackle. There it was. The vessel that held her origin. Blonde tresses floated in the liquid that enveloped the body of a female. Her slender form seemed to shine with an iridescent light in the gloom of the chamber. Trish cursed her existence. She was the reason for Trish's pain and suffering.

Trish felt her mind slipping. _Eva Sparda. If I could I would have killed you before you reached puberty. Who in their right mind falls in love with a demon?_ Not knowing why, she started laughing to herself, a laugh which culminated in a cough that made her throw up some blood. A current in the large transparent tube made a lock of hair drifted to the side and reveal the floating woman's face. For an instance Trish thought Eva was looking at her. But the pale eyelids were closed and no emotions crossed the serene face. _Her face…my face…our face._

By gripping the edges of the flag stones Trish crawled closer to the large tube. Pausing for a minute to catch her breath she rolled over on her back, stifling a cry as her broken ribs cut into her lungs. She lay there staring up at Eva and felt deep hate welling up inside her. _There will be no others. It stops here._ She struggled up on her knees, thankful that the bones in her legs had healed. Blood dripped from her mouth onto the floor and her hands slipped in it as she tried to get up.

Gripping the twisted pillars of cold lava that enveloped the base and top of the tube Trish managed to stand. Her hands smeared blood over the slick surface as she stood face to face with her physical twin. _It stops here._

Ignoring the pain Trish started to power up. She knew that her gathering of power would alert the guards, but they were far away and would not be there in time to stop her. When her limit was reached she let the energy go in a burst of sparks. The tube exploded in a shower of fragments, liquid gurgled between the stones and the limp body washed over the floor and rolled to a halt against her feet. Trish fell more than kneeled beside Eva. She gasped as the pain ravaged her body. Closing her eyes for a precious moment she tried to gather enough strength to finish what she had set out to do.

-

-:-:-:-:-

-

Someone touched her shoulder and a startled Trish struggled to her feet. Expecting to see a demon guard standing over her she had difficulty focusing her gaze on the elderly lady that looked up at her.

"Are you alright, dear?" Bright grey eyes surrounded by small wrinkles looked at her with concern.

Trish tried to speak but could only nod. The memories still lingered and made her flinch as a soft hand reached out to stroke her hair. It changed aim and gripped her shaking hand instead. The woman patted her soothingly on the hand as Trish tried to compose herself.

"Sure? You don't seem alright. What's your name, dear?"

"Trish." She managed to find her voice at last. Her sense of reality was returning. She was not in the Underworld. She was in Meadows Creek and Dante was sitting on a bench across the street, flirting with some slut waitress.

"I'm Mabel. Nice to make your acquaintance, Trish. Now let's get you out if this alley and have you checked out." Mabel grabbed her elbow and started to lead her to the sunlit street.

"No!" Trish froze in place. Dante would see her and wonder what had happened. He could never know. "Really, I'm fine. I just…have a head ache. The sunlight…" She tried to look like she really had a head ache. Not that she knew what it felt like, she had never had one. Her skull had been cracked at occasions but 'head ache' was probably not the proper term for labelling that pain.

"Oh, you have a head ache? Wait, I know I have some…" the elderly lady started to dig through the giant purse that was hanging from her arm and with a triumphant cry pulled out a packet of pills.

"Here, take two of these and call me in the morning." Mabel smiled and nudged Trish in the ribs. "A joke. Get it? Call me in the morning. Like I'm the doctor." She giggled to herself. Trish felt a smile tug at her lips as Mabel put the pills in her hand and patted it.

"You'll be right as rain in an hour. Now, if you really don't need any help, I'll go find my husband, Tim. He's stocking up on supplies. We're driving to our daughter in the morning, she lives a few days trip from here." She gave Trish a final pat on the cheek and walked out of the shadowy alley.

Trish stared at the pills in her hand. Friendliness. How rare. She felt an unfamiliar emotion welling up inside. Her eyes stared to sting and something wet rolled down her cheek. She wiped at it and saw a tear rest on the edge of her hand. Embarrassed, she wiped the moisture from her eye and hand. A devil crying, that must be a first. She looked across the street. The waitress had left and Dante seemed restless. It was hunting time.

-

-:-:-:-:-

-

"Man, I'm tired. We've been traipsing through those woods for hours. Time to get some sleep." Dante threw his coat on the bed and walked over to the window. They had had no luck hunting. There was no sign of the demon where they had been told he should be. And even though they had widened their search they had drawn a blank. They had decided to give it another go in the morning and returned to town. Not far from the police station they had found a hotel that was cheap but clean.

"Maybe there is no demon. Maybe someone saw a bear or something." Trish yawned and stretched her arms over her head, unaware that Dante was watching her reflection in the darkened window.

"Yeah, I'll do an aerial tomorrow and if I don't find anything, we're gone." Dante watched as Trish bent slightly to loosen the straps that held the holsters to her thighs. Her long hair slipped forward and became a golden curtain that hid her face from his view. He turned from the window and when she straightened he was standing right in front of her. He raised his hand and brushed her hair behind her ear, not seeing the sudden pain in her eyes.

"You should braid it. It must get in the way sometimes."

_Did your mother braid her hair, Dante?_

"Like yours, you mean?" Trish tugged playfully at the platinum tresses that hung in front of the ice-blue eyes. They grinned at each other.

"Yeah. Now, time to go to bed. We have a demon to hunt in the morning. Sweet dreams." Dante started to remove his arsenal and Trish turned and walked out the door to get to her own room across the hall. She unlocked the door and stepped inside. When she had closed the door behind her, she looked at the bed. _Devils don't dream. They only remember._ She started to undress and then crept under the covers. Closing her eyes she hoped that this would be a night without memories.

-

-:-:-:-:-

-

The burning bike came hurling through the air. With a cry Trish threw herself out of the way. She had not planned to die that way; it seemed to be too painful. She had had enough of pain. The wreck passed over her head and burning fuel created a wall of fire behind her. When she looked up from where she was lying, she saw Dante walking towards her. The large sword was protruding from his chest but he acted as if it was nothing.

"Even as a child I had powers. There's demonic blood in me."

"That strength…" Trish muttered under her breath. She instinctively tried to crawl away from him as he stepped closer. He pulled out the sword and tossed it aside, ignoring the blood that spurted from the wound. The sight stunned her and she only registered his closing remark.

"Looks like I'm getting closer." He aimed his gun at her and she could do nothing but stare up at him. Thoughts were spinning in her head. _He may be able to do it. He may have the strength to defeat Mundus._ Trish changed her own initial plan. Getting this man to kill her was becoming plan B. Instead she would follow Mundus' orders. But not because he had told her too, but because leading this man to the gate could prove to be her only chance of escaping Mundus' leash alive. She returned to the plan that had been drilled into her during painful hours. To lure the son of Sparda to Mallet Island.

"It may seem that way, but I am not your enemy. My name is Trish. I came here to seek your help. To put an end to the Underworld." She used the doorframe as support as she got to her feet.

"What?"

Trish turned her head towards him and removed her dark glasses. She heard Dante's sharp inhale and when he looked away from her face her eyes followed his. A small frame had fallen to the floor when she had kicked him into the desk. The glass was broken and shards were scattered around it. The photo inside was still intact and it was the picture of a woman. Trish recognised the face. _Eva._ The eyes seemed to meet hers with an undecipherable look in them. They pulled her closer and soon she was lost in their grey depths.

The grey turned to black, and ice was rising through her bones. Opening her eyes she felt the pain of hundred wounds and the smell of blood. At first she could not focus but soon her surroundings became clear. The Underworld. She felt something wet and slimy brush over her hand as she moved it. She looked down on a golden mass of seaweed. _No, it's hair. My hair. No, HER hair._ Lying in front of her was the unmoving body of Eva Sparda. Trish scooped her up in her arms and managed to stand up. Staggering under the weight, and occasionally slipping on the wet stones, she walked towards the pulsing membrane that covered the opening. The membrane tore itself apart with a sickening noise and she stepped through. _Don't worry, Eva. I will give you what you deserve._

The thick liquid that covered her burden's skin dried up and fell of in crusts as Trish staggered through the tunnels, occasionally bumping into the fleshy walls. She soon saw the end of her journey ahead of her. The membrane of this larger opening would not let her through, so she kneeled down and seated Eva on the floor to free one arm. She released a spear of energy that ripped open the thin veil of skin. Blood poured from the walls as she resumed her walk, now on steadier feet.

The hot lava bubbled and sent up clouds of sulphurous gas. Trish kneeled by the edge of the lava lake and looked down at the face that would always haunt her. As the air in this chamber warmed her, Eva started to get a rosy tone to her skin. Her lips lost their blue colour as Trish brushed the crusted slime from her hair. Staring down at her, Trish expected the grey eyes to flutter open at any second. _I'll give you what you deserve._

With her strength returning, it was an easy task to push the limp body down the small slope and watch it roll into the lava. The blonde hair started burning immediately, giving of a sickening smell. As Eva slid into the bubbling melted stone, Trish sat back on her heels. _Rest in peace._ The body disappeared under the surface and Trish closed her eyes.

A sudden grip around her wrist pulled her forward and her eyes flew open. Grinning at her was the melting skull of a skeleton. Its bony hands scratched in the gravel around the edge of the lava lake, trying to pull out the rest of the body. As Trish tried to back paddle with her hands and feet the grip returned and pulled her down on the ground. The hands reached for her face and clawed at her skin. A cracked voice slipped through the melting lips of the skull.

"MyYy FfaACcEEeE…"

-

-:-:-:-:-

-

_That didn't happen. Eva didn't crawl from the lake. She had been dead for years before I did that._ Trish sat up in the bed, hugging her knees to her chest. She shook her head. That had not happened. _I must have been dreaming…Dreaming? So much for sweet dreams._

Trish climbed out of bed and wrapped the covers around her shivering body. There was no point in trying to go to sleep again. _There's no rest for the wicked, isn't that what they say?_ She sat down in the wooden chair that stood in a corner of the room and stared into the darkness, waiting for the sun to rise.

Hours later, she walked down the hall to Dante's room. As she raised her hand to knock on the door it swung open, revealing a sleepy Dante. With a yawn, he motioned for her to come inside. Scratching his bare chest with one hand he tried to button his pants with the other.

"What a lovely morning," Trish chirped, knowing perfectly well how Dante loathed early mornings.

"Mpfh," he replied. "The damn windows have no blinds. The freaking sun woke me up." Yawning once more, he stretched, flexing the muscular back that was Trish's current view. She looked away and tried to concentrate on the task at hand. The demon.

"Ready to go out there again? Maybe the demon was out on business yesterday?" Trish stared out the window, looking at the street below. She saw Mabel standing outside on the curb, apparently waiting for her husband. She had a grocery bag in her hand. Probably some last minute shopping. As if sensing her gaze, Mabel looked up and saw her standing in the window. With a smile she waved and Trish gave her a cautious wave back. A car pulled up and Mabel got in. Trish watched as the old station wagon rolled down the street and disappeared round a corner.

"Yeah, we'll do a final sweep of the woods." Dante put Ivory and Ebony in their holsters. He flung the coat over his shoulder and headed for the door. "But first, some breakfast. Coming?"

"Yes, I'll just get my weapons." Trish followed him out the door and walked into her own room across the hall. Dante leaned against the doorframe and watched as Trish strapped Sparda to her back. The large sword seemed too big for her to handle, heck, it even seem too big when Dante used it. But despite its size it was light, not being made of any metal Dante ever seen before.

They walked out on the street, heading for the diner. It was the only place in town that serves decent food. When they entered everyone hushed, remembering the showdown that had occurred yesterday. Trish and Dante sat down in a booth after laying their swords across one end of the table. A waitress came to take their order and after a nervous look at the gleaming metal she scampered off to get their breakfast.

They had finished eating and sat discussing strategies when a commotion outside was heard. Dante looked up and cursed. Outside was the demon, tearing a car apart as if it had been made of papier-mâché. Dante grabbed Alastor and ran outside, closely followed by Trish.

"DEVIL HUNTER!" The demon's voice shook the shop windows along the street. It tossed the car aside and turned to face them. It was huge. Its legs was shaped like the hind legs of a goat and ended in hooves. Its green skin was marred by scares and tribal markings. Instead of fingers it had three sharp claws, one working as a thumb. Its head was crowned by horns that stretching toward the sky. Wings were folded against its back and they shivered with anticipation as Dante stepped out on the street.

Trish hesitated when she looked at the large monstrosity that towered over the red clad hunter. _It can't be. Not him. Not here._ She masked her sudden fear and walked over to stand by Dante's side. She could see a content smirk swiftly cross the demon's face. _It is._

"Well, look what the cat dragged in." Dante looked up at the large figure standing in front of him, unshaken. "You just saved us a lot of trouble. Now we don't have to waste time hunting you. We'll just skip to the killing part."

"You have my permission to try, Devil Hunter!" The demon laughed and released a bolt of energy at the cocky half breed. Dante and Trish simultaneously flipped backward and drew their guns. Bullets tore into flesh but seemed to have no effect.

Circling their enemy the hunters used both swords and guns to try to take him down but they only managed to cause minor damage. It seemed he had some kind of shield protecting him. Dante locked eyes with Trish and shook his head. This was not going to work. It took too long. Some innocent bystander could get hurt.

"Time for some damage control." Dante triggered and jumped up in the air. Trish could hear shrieks from the crowd inside the diner. Despite the danger there were several people inside whose faces were almost flat against the large windowpane.

Keeping out of Dante's line of fire Trish holstered her guns and released flash after flash of her own electrical energy. The combined bombardment of lightning bolts and raw energy seemed to break through the demon's invisible shield. He let out a roar as one of Dante's bolts struck him in the shoulder. Unfolding his wings he took to the sky, his huge wingspan giving him an advantage against Dante.

Dante touched down beside Trish as she reached the bikes. The engines roared to life and they were off. Speeding through the streets, they kept one eye on the quickly disappearing shape in the sky. Soon they had left the town behind them and were travelling down a road that wound through the forest. The bikes skidded through the curves at break neck speed, balancing on the edge of control.

The chase led deep into the forest, they were leaving every sign of civilisation behind. Finally they saw the demon slow down. It seemed to hover for a second and then it descended, disappearing behind the trees. Taking note on where it had landed, the two hunters continued down the road. Soon they could glimpse an opening between the trees. They pulled over and cautiously moved through the undergrowth.

Reaching a clearing in the forest, they spotted the demon standing with its back against them. Silently Dante signalled to Trish that they should split up, positioning themselves on opposite sides. They sneaked along the edge of the clearing, taking care not to step on any twigs. Suddenly the demon turned and fired an energy bolt at Dante. Dante instinctively threw himself to the side and rolled. When he came to his feet he was near the middle of the open space and he abandoned the game of sneak-him-up. Better to go in with guns blazing. He saw that Trish had made it to the back of the glade unnoticed. She could still make a surprise attack from behind.

Dante unsheathed Alastor with a flourish and triggered. The demon stepped back, its large hooves sinking into the soft soil. Slightly cowering, it continued to walk backwards and Dante matched its retreat with his own advancement. He could see Trish powering up as the distance between her and the enemy shrunk. When she was at full power Dante prepared to launch his attack but suddenly the demon straightened up with a triumphant look in its ugly face.

"Rha'gwayl Mehgia!" A flash of light surrounded Dante and he suddenly realised that it was a trap. A circle of strange writings had appeared around him on the ground, shining with a greenish light. He lost control of his demon form and Alastor's blade was no longer surrounded by the static sparkles that manifested when evil was present. It was merely a sword. And he was merely a man.

The next thing he knew he was impaled. The demon had run him through with one of his horns and was flinging him up into the air like a toy. Trish released her energy bolts with a cry, trying to stop the massacre. Dante's limp body hit the ground several feet from the centre of the opening and the circle of light. Running, Trish tried to reach him while sending flash after flash at the approaching monstrosity. Her efforts were in vain as a giant clawed hand lashed out and sent her flying across the clearing, crashing into a large tree. The demon turned and walked over to the patch of grass where Dante lay.

"You have been stripped of your powers, spawn of Sparda! Even your Devil Arms are powerless! Now we have skipped to the killing part!" the demon raised its foot and prepared to crush Dante under its weight.

Trish came out of the unconsciousness that had momentarily swallowed her as she hit the tree. She could feel that she had broken her left arm, and at least four ribs. Cradling her injured limb she looked up, searching for Dante. The first thing she saw was the hulking shape of the demon leaning over his bleeding body. _No! Dante!_ She got up and limped towards the scene. She saw that she would not reach him in time, so as a last desperate measure she drew Sparda and charged the sword with all her power. Then, with a cry of rage and despair, she sent the sword spinning through the air.

Sparda sparkled with energy as it unfolded and cut into the tough green skin. It orbited its surprised prey in tight circles, both electrocuting and slashing it. The demon staggered back and missed Dante with a mere inch as he put his hoof down.

Trish ran forward and grabbed the nap of Dante's coat with her good arm. Backing away from the flailing demon she pulled Dante into the woods. When she was halfway through the line of trees that separated the clearing from the road, she felt Sparda returning to its place on her back. She looked up, expecting to see the demon charging through the trees but there was no sign of him. The forest was dead quiet and she continued her task. As she reached the road she looked around. How in the world was she supposed to get out of here? There was no way that she could get Dante's unconscious body up on a bike and drive away. A distant rumble cut into her thoughts and her saviour came around the curve. An old station wagon. It stopped by the side of the road and the door opened.

"Trish?" Mabel got out and walked towards the pair. She gasped as she saw Dante's blood covered body. "Oh, dear! What's happened?"

"I don't have time to explain. Could you give us a ride back to town?"

"Of course, we can. We need to get him to a doctor." Mabel gestured to her husband to get out of the car and help Trish carry Dante. She opened the door to the backseat and Trish climbed in, pulling Dante with her. Trish leaned her back against the opposite door and pulled the limp body closer against her chest until the head was resting on her shoulder. _There's so much blood!_ Tim moved Dante's feet so he could close the door and then hurried to the driver side. The tires screeched as the large vehicle made a U-turn and raced back to town.

Trish cradled Dante, trying not to look at the large hole that was gaping in his chest. She thought that at least one leg must be broken and he had lost a lot of blood. _You can't die! Please! I'll do anything!_ Before the demon attacked something had happened, she had seen how Dante lost his power and she hoped that it had not affected his ability to heal.

"We're here!" Mabel turned in her seat. Trish looked up and saw the outskirts of town quickly approaching.

"Take us to the hotel."

"What! But he needs a doctor."

"No doctor can help him. If he can't get through this on his own, there is nothing any doctor can do. His injuries are too grave. Get us to the hotel!"

"Okay, no doctor. But I'm not letting you deal with this on you own. Tim, take us home." The car skidded around a corner and soon they pulled up outside a small yellow house. Tim parked in front of the porch and hurried to the other side of the car. Mabel unlocked the front door while Trish and Tim carried Dante up the stairs of the porch. Mabel led the way through the house to a bedroom in the back.

"This used to be Robin's room. You can put him in here. I'll get something to clean the wounds." She left the room in search of medical supplies. Meanwhile they had put Dante's unconscious body on the bed. Trish ripped apart the sleeves of his leather coat and his shirt. His vest soon met the same fate as she was in a hurry to see how bad the damage really was. She swallowed hard before she could bring herself to look at his chest. The jagged edges of the hole still seeped blood but she could see that the tissue had started to regenerate. He would live.

Relieved, she started to look at his other injuries. He was a mess, several bones were broken and he had multiple abrasions. Just like she had thought, his left leg was broken and as she started to remove the rest of his clothes she was careful not to disturb it too much. It would take some time before the healing would be able to take care of it. It often dealt with the most serious wounds first.

Mabel returned with antiseptics, cloths and bowls of water, so they started to clean him up before they pulled the covers up to his chin. Trish sat on the edge of the bed for a while, gently brushing the platinum locks from his forehead. She looked down at his face, surprised at how peaceful he looked. She felt Mabel stop beside her and looked up.

"I'll have to leave. There's something I must finish. Will you look after him? I don't know when I'm coming back."

"Well, yes. Of course we'll look after him. But what could be so important that you must leave right now? Don't you want to stay a while to see how he's doing?"

"He'll live. I have to see an old…acquaintance." Trish rose from the bed and walked towards the door. "Tell him…Tell him not to worry."

She walked out of the house and down the street. She figured it would take her a couple of hours, walking back to where she had come from.


	3. Third chapter

_My head is heavy,  
my limbs are weary,  
and it is not life that makes me move_

_-Percy Bysshe Shelley _

_

* * *

_

Clawing at the layers of unconsciousness that hindered his awakening, he tried to reach the surface. He heard a voice calling to him and gripped the sound. The dark shifted and scattered.

Mabel sat by her patient's bed reading the latest crime novel. The sudden grip around her arm startled her and she shrieked, instinctively trying to free herself from the vicelike hold. As she looked down she found herself staring down into Dante's narrowed eyes.

"Who are you? What am I doing here?"

"I'm Mabel. We found you in the woods and brought you here. You were badly hurt." Mabel gave the strong hand that clasped her arm a soothing pat. The grip lightened as Dante realised that it was an old lady that was sitting beside him. His memory slowly returned and his mind replayed what had happened. The demon had cast some spell on him and then tossed him around like a cat playing with a mouse. The last thing he had seen was Trish being hit by the demon's fist and sent flying into a tree.

"Where's Trish? Long blonde hair, giant sword on her back?" Dante tried to look around the room, hoping that he would find her standing there with her familiar smile.

"She was here, but she had to leave. She told me to tell you not to worry about her." Mabel's answer made Dante look at her again. Her honest face assured him that she was telling the truth.

"She left? Where was she going?"

"She wouldn't say. She just said she was meeting an old acquaintance."

"How long has she been gone, a couple of hours?"

"No, three days."

"What!" Dante sat up and tried to ignore the pain from his wounds. There was something wrong here. There was no way that he had been out cold for three days, no matter how serious the wound. Looking down on his chest he could still see the scar tissue that covered the hole. Something was _very_ wrong. He tried to put his feet on the floor, but a sharp pain in his left leg stopped him.

"Oh, be careful! It's broken." Mabel quickly steadied him as he almost fell out of bed. She helped him to straighten up and then stood looking at him while anxiously twisting her hands. A frustrated sigh from Dante did nothing to calm her.

"I have to get up and find Trish."

"But you're still hurt!" Mabel fussed around the bed, straightening the sheets and fluffing the pillow. Dante resisted her attempts to get him back under the covers.

"Where are my clothes?"

"Oh, they're here, but…" She held up the remains of his red leather coat. "Trish undressed you before we tended to your wounds. You can't go out like this. If you just wait a day or two I'll get you another shirt and coat." She looked at his stern face and saw the determination in his eyes. Biting her lip she continued to twist her hands in indecisiveness. Then she brightened and patted Dante on the shoulder.

"I'll call Doctor Willis. He can fix your leg so you can move around." Turning on a dime she headed towards the door. "And get you some clothes," she added as an afterthought as she disappeared through the door. Dante watched her leave with a frown on his face. _Damn it, Trish!_ Even though Trish was fully capable of taking care of herself, he still worried about her. He knew her well enough to know that she had gone back to deal with the demon. Thinking about her battling that beast alone was not doing much for his peace of mind. To make things worse, he was not even capable of getting out of bed. He fell back against the pillow and sighed. Closing his eyes he tried to sense his body and interpret its signals. There had to be something wrong. As he let his mind drift inward he felt a void, a sucking emptiness that ached within him. Where there had been roaring fire there was now a deafening silence. With a shiver he opened his eyes again. That was what was missing, what was wrong. His demonic soul was almost completely gone. He could only feel small flickers of it. It was true what the demon had told him. He had lost his powers. He was just human.

He lay there stunned for what seemed like hours, staring at the ceiling._ It can't be true. I'm half demon, there's no way someone can take away half your being. _When the initial shock subsided he pushed away his feeling of alarm, pushed it down into a place where he didn't have to deal with it. So what if he was just an ordinary human, he still had his experience and fighting skills. He just had to be more careful and try not to be stabbed, shoot or electrocuted as much. And on the bright side, he seemed to have retained his ability to heal quickly, even though it did not seem to be working on top speed anymore.

His thoughts were interrupted when Mabel returned with a small skinny man who carried a black doctor's bag. The man folded back the covers from Dante's leg and hummed for a while. Then he looked at Mabel.

"This should be operated."

"No, he's the devil hunter. His partner said he would be okay. Can't you just put a splint on it? He just needs some time to heal." Mabel's firm belief in Dante's healing abilities seemed to sway the doctor and after a minor hesitation he consented. After fetching the necessary items from his car he pulled the leg straight and fixated it. Mabel followed Doctor Willis to the front door and when she returned she found Dante sitting on the edge of the bed. With a concerned look Mabel handed him a pair of loose-fitting pants, a t-shirt and some pain killers.

Dante pulled on the pants with some minor difficulties and then reached for the shirt. When he had finished dressing he looked at Mabel. He could tell by the look on her face that she was still not very happy about his plan of leaving. With a pained grunt he managed to get to his feet and test his leg. It hurt like hell but it would have to do, for now.

"I'm very grateful for your help Mabel, but I have wasted too much time all ready."

"Are you going to catch up with your girlfriend? With that leg?"

"She's not my girlfriend but, yes, I will." Dante pulled on his black leather gloves and grabbed his holsters from the bed post.

"But you don't even know where she is."

"No, but I have a pretty good idea. Could you give me a lift?"

-

-:-:-:-:-

-

As soon as Mabel's car was out of sight, Dante leaned down and tore the bandage from his leg. The bone had healed and the torn muscles would heal eventually. He fastened the buckles of his boot and then stretched, looking out over his surroundings. He had to shield his eyes from the brightness of the sun as he looked out over the quiet glade. The only sound was the rustling of leafs as the wind gently caressed the surrounding trees. The clearing still bore marks of his dealings with the demon, but Dante could detect other traces of battle. Burned patches scared the grass and, as he searched for anything that would hint at Trish's whereabouts, he soon came across large splatters of dried blood. His breath caught in his throat. It was hers, he knew it was hers; the blood was almost black.

The grass whispered under his feet as he limped feverishly around the clearing. Apart from stains of blood there were nothing leading him to Trish. His explorations had soon brought him full circle. The only thing that seemed fairly interesting was a narrow path beginning at the tree line furthest away from the road. There was nothing else to do, so Dante decided to see where it led. Unsheathing Alastor, he cautiously began limping down the path.

A towering red rock was standing in the middle of a patch of barren land. The rock's surface was scared by markings that formed a circle. The ground around it was charred, small clouds of soot puffed up when Dante's heavy boots connected with the darkened soil. There was no sign of the demon or Trish, but something about this place was making Dante uneasy. As he slowly stepped closer to the large rock, the void in him became a pounding ache. His chest hurt with every breath and he started to feel light headed. He stumbled back and sat down against the trunk of a tree. The dizziness immediately subsided. He stared at the black ground and then leaned forward to scrape Alastor's edge across an odd looking line in the ground. There were markings there, similar to those that had surrounded him when he had stepped into the goat demon's trap.

He got up and walked around the outer limit of the blackened patch. It formed an almost perfect circle. Dante cursed under his breath. _I know what this is._ As he lifted his hand to brush back stray locks of hair he could see it shake. He clenched his fist and backed away from the foreboding rock. _It's a goddamn Hell Gate._

Jenna had told him about these things, how they had appeared during Mundus' first attempt to rule the human world. The gates were only used by Demon Lords, and massive spells protected them from being used by others. Lesser demons' attempts to breach the magic barriers often resulted in death.

But this was not an ancient gate. This was created recently. The small radius of the charred area was an evidence of that. The magic that protected the Hell Gates fed constantly on the life surrounding it. Eventually it left the earth barren for miles. Dante stared at the red stone surface, tapping Alastor's hilt with his index finger. There had been nothing in the demon's appearance or demeanour that hinted at it being a Lord. They were generally more pompous, and quite hard to get rid of. He stared at the rock while pondering what to do. The dizziness he had felt before had probably been caused by the protective spells. It was apparent that in his present state he could not count on his demonic blood to protect him from them. Unfortunately there was no other way to enter the Underworld.

The determination that had driven him suddenly dwindled away. He sighed wearily, sank to his knees and rested his head on his hands, gripping Alastor's hilt. Until now he had managed to ignore the feelings that churned in his chest. The loss of the demonic side of his soul made him feel out of balance. He had never realised how big a part of him it had been. Without it he could feel himself revert back into that haunted and scared 14-year-old boy he once had been. Thoughts that never would have occurred to him before suddenly rose up in his mind. He felt weak, and tired, and his leg was hurting. Most of all he felt like curling up into a ball and sleep for a year. He winced mentally at the sudden pang of fear that made his heart race. The thought of facing demons seemed unbearable. After all, he was just human now, he had no business here. _Maybe Trish just grew tired of hanging around. She probably hitched a ride with someone and..._ He imagined Trish in an apartment somewhere, starting a new life. _Yeah, right,_ the tattered remains of his demonic self laughed dryly. _And there aren't pools of her blood in that clearing back there._

_Shutup._ Dante got to his feet. Inside him the scared 14-year-old recoiled from the harsh tone. The ghost of his demonic side laughed; a tint of madness to its voice. The mocking laughter echoed through Dante's skull and scratched at his every nerve, giving him a headache.

"SHUT! THE FUCK! UP!" He raised Alastor and with a roar slammed the blade into the ground. The impact sent clouds of soot whirling into the air and a stone met its fate when the razor sharp blade sliced it in half. Coughing and sneezing, Dante stepped back, away from the clouds. Unable to see properly he stumbled over a root and staggered backwards, crashing heavily into the trunk of a massive tree, dropping Alastor in the process. He slid down the rough bark until he sat on the ground, and leaned his head back, closing his eyes and sighing.

"Great, now I can't even stay on my feet. What's next, arachnophobia?" He let his head loll to the side and stared blindly at thin air. Eventually his eyes focused on the stone that dominated the small clearing. Dante sat there staring at it, noting the scars from chisels that littered its rough surface. They were like small white shadows against the redness of the stone. A smudge of black caught his eye and he leaned forward to get a better look. It was Trish's blood.

Once again he had to struggle to breathe. With an effort he pushed the panic aside and tried to take calm breaths. The boy was clawing at the walls of his mind and screaming about Trish's death. Dante growled mentally at his weakness and forced his tangled feelings down. He got to his feet and picked up Alastor._ I'll be damned if I'm giving up now_. Giving the Hell Gate a menacing look he stepped across the line of incantations.

"Considering demons' lack of imagination, I'll probably have to hack repeatedly at you to get you to open, right?" Dante fought the dizziness that threatened to take him again and started slashing away at the massive rock. Sparks flew as Alastor's blade connected with stone. The devil hunter continued attacking the Gate until the dizziness forced him to stagger out from the circle. Panting, he wiped at the blood that had started to flow from his nose. There was not a mark on the rock. It stood there looking as impenetrable as before.

Dante growled. He could hear the frightened boy whimper inside him, insisting on the futility of it all while the demon cackled in the background. He growled again, mentally lashing out at them. _I told you to shut the fuck up!_ Dante tried once again to suppress the annoying voices, but the whimpering continued, fuelling his anger. He launched another attack on the Gate but it was half hearted. He tried to concentrate on the task at hand but the voices gibbering in his mind would not leave him alone, and the magic surrounding the Hell Gate did its best to kill him. Finally he snapped, and flinging his sword aside, pulled out Ebony and Ivory.

Screaming unintelligible insults and curses, he fired a barrage of bullets at the foreboding rock. The bullets ricocheted of the stone surface and zinged around him. One bullet buried itself in his shoulder and the pain made him scream out in anger. Pushed beyond rage he threw the guns aside and gripped Alastor again.

He went berserk.

Unceremoniously, he hacked at the red rock, each blow sending waves of agony through his wounded shoulder. All he could hear, except for the rushing of blood in his head, was the howl of the demon. As crippled as it was, his fury feed it and it took him over. As he descended deeper into this violent rage, he could almost feel the demon rip through his body, changing it. His _CLAWS_ clenched the hilt in a desperate grip. The hard metal surface was the only thing that seemed real in this world of blood red mist.

Caught in the blood red mist, Dante never noticed the tingling in his body; never noticed the red flames that started licking his skin; never noticed the glowing of the symbols engraved on the rock. He gasped for air when he was violently flung backwards by the shockwave.

The Hell Gate had opened.

* * *

AN: HI! I'm back from the dead. I was murdered in my sleep with a giant loaf of bread. 

Don't be shy to leave a comment on this extremely late chapter. It will be greatly appreciated. : )


	4. Fourth chapter

Yay! Finally a new chapter! Back from my hiatus. Not easy being a Demonic Clown. Places to be, People to scare, not enough time end energy to do all the fun stuff. Anyway, here is the next to last chapter of my River story, or next next to last...We'll see. Depends on what pops into my head when I write. ENJOY! /Penniewise

_She's made of hair and bone and little teeth  
_

_and things I cannot speak_

_ Marilyn Manson_

_

* * *

_

The clearing was silent and dark as Trish stepped cautiously through the undergrowth. She had travelled for hours to get here, sometimes walking, sometimes running. During her journey her wounds had healed and her mind had cleared. Dante was going to survive and if she succeeded in her mission there would be no more danger for him here. She could sense the presence of a demon ahead and she knew who it was. Kaelus.

He was waiting for her. Trish was sure of it. She had been his pet project. Teaching her to follow orders without questions had been one of his greatest pleasures, as it seemed. She still shivered when she remembered their sessions. The few permanent scars she had on her body were put there by him.

Trish stopped at the edge of the woods, her guns ready at her sides. She saw no one, but the stench of Kaelus aura permeated the clearing ahead and filled her with fear. She had never been able to beat him in the past, had always been the loser in their battles. His mere presence had made her shake, dreading the pain he would inflict on her. He had been her master, more so than Mundus, since Kaelus had been the one responsible for her so called upbringing. She took a deep breath, readying herself for the upcoming meeting. She knew that he was waiting out there, waiting for her. She stepped forward, through the tree line.

Kaelus stood in the middle of the clearing, stretching his wings and glowering at her. Trish hesitated in her stride. Her hands tightened involuntarily, the butt of her guns branding her palms. The goat demon smirked. Trish mentally scolded herself for letting him see her fear. She knew how he thrived on it.

Kaelus bared his teeth in anticipation. He watched Trish stride towards him across the grass covered ground. It still bore marks from their previous fight. He inhaled the sweet smell of blood and burned ozone that still lingered. He revelled in the moment. Finally he would catch Trish and there was no one that could interfere, especially that irritating devil hunter. He growled at the thought of Dante. Still growling he let his eyes rest on Trish's approaching form, noting her confident movements and the contradictory fear in her eyes. His irritation subsided as his most priced toy came closer. She was ready for a fight, brandishing her big guns as if they could do him any harm. He laughed inwardly at her confidence in those human contraptions.

Trish took aim at Kaelus' chest. She felt her hands shake as she met his scornful gaze. Fear shot through her entire being. Steeling herself she took a few measured steps forward before she stopped. Kaelus grinned as he looked down on the slim blonde in front of him. The guns in her hands reflected the fading sunlight as she slowly pulled both triggers.

The recoil made the guns jump in her hand. As the bullets hit Kaelus they buried themselves beneath the thick skin. Rivulets of blood spilled from the wounds. Kaelus threw his head back and roared with laughter.

"Is this your plan, to shoot me? Don't you know that human weapons can't harm me! You have become weak during your time on Earth!" Still rumbling with laughter he stalked towards her. As he swung out an arm to grab her by the waist, she back flipped to get out of reach. Trish trained her guns on him again. A wry smile pulled at her lips.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but these are not made by a human." She pulled the trigger of her gold tinted gun. Sparkles trailed through the air as the bullet tore away from Scratchy's barrel. The shock as it hit Kaelus made him stagger and howl. The stench of burnt flesh filled the clearing. Trish had charged her gun with her own electric energy. It sent shock waves of pain through his body. The demon had no time to recover before she started pumping more electrified bullets into him.

Trish circled him, constantly firing. Kaelus roared madly. Flailing around he tried to grab her with his claws. His wings coiled around him for protection, but the barrage of bullets tore at them relentlessly. The electricity crackles over him, blinding his eyes and stunning his muscles.

Trish ducked and rolled as another swipe of his claws threatened to tear her arm off. Blowing strands of hair from her face she quickly got to her feet again. She backed up a few steps, cautiously watching the enraged demon. The bullets weren't enough to kill him, she knew that. Hesitantly she drew her blade and eyed her opponent. Kaelus still staggered around blindly, flailing his wings and claws wildly in an attempt to protect himself. Seeing an opening, Trish launched an attack. Ducking under his arm she slashed his side. As she quickly rolled out of his reach she felt a sudden pain. His blood had coated her skin and it was burning her. Licking her lips she grinned. _Maybe I can do this; maybe I can finally kill him._ She ducked again as he tore through the air with his claws. She could feel Sparda hum in her hand, the taste of blood awakening the blade.

She fixed her eyes on the demon, looking for the slightest opening. Electricity snaked across the edge of the sword as she readied another attack. _There._ She took a quick step forward before she leaped into the air. She put all her strength in the swing, bringing Sparda down on Kaelus' unprotected skull. The sudden impact numbed her hands when Kaelus caught the blade with his claws.

For a brief second she hung in the air, staring into his mocking eyes. Then Kaelus flung her across the clearing with a great sweep of his arm. Trish lost her grip on Sparda as she slammed into the tall pines. Broken trees crashed over her when she rolled to a stop. Through the ringing in her ears she heard Kaelus laughing. Trish gritted her teeth and tried to push herself up from the forest floor. She whimpered when she felt her broken ribs grind against each other. Fumbling around, Trish tried to find Sparda. After a few seconds she felt the cold metal of the sword against her fingers. She crawled closer and then stumbled to her feet as her fingers closed around the hilt. Her vision was dimmed and she quickly swept her hand across her face to dry the blood out of her eyes.

Kaelus was still standing in the same place. Trish cautiously moved her limbs to see if something important was broken, while she inwardly beat down the treacherous thoughts that whispered that she could not beat him. Once again she searched for an opening before launching her attack. Rushing forward she swept the sword back, preparing for a sideways slash. Kaelus readied himself to block her slash with his steel like claws. Seconds before impact Trish twisted her body, making Sparda cut through the air in an upwards arch. She could see Kaelus' eyes widening in surprise before the blade tore into his flesh from hip to shoulder. Trish stumbled sideways, clutching her side with her free hand. The broken ribs threatened to puncture her right lung. Kaelus crashed down on the ground. Trish leaned against Sparda, trying to prevent her legs from folding under her.

Trish never heard the soft footfalls behind her. Never saw the sunlight reflected off the dagger that was thrust towards her back. She only felt a sudden pain and then numbness as the poison on the blade took effect. She slumped to the ground, not seeing the blonde woman that wiped her dagger on the grass and then strode over to Kaelus' unmoving body.

.

-:-:-:-:-

.

The smell of blood and burning flesh assaulted her nose. Trish forced her eyes open with difficulty. One eye was almost swollen shut. She slowly came to the realisation that the flesh that was burning was her own. Searing hot metal slid across her back, leaving deep wounds and cauterising them at the same time. A gasp of pain had her broken ribs grinding against each other. The pain tried to take over and shut down her other senses but she blocked it out, as she had done so many times before. She was getting good at blocking things out.

She could not feel her arms any more. The chains that she was hanging from cut into her wrists and tore the skin. She tipped her head forward and stared at the floor that she was gently swinging over. She could see patches of blood discolouring the flag stones. Blood dripped from her toes. With detached interest she watched a drop of blood lose its grip on her little toe and splash onto the floor. _I'm like well hung beef._ A dry laugh forced its way through her throat. Hours of screaming had cracked her voice, and the laughter came out as a hoarse cackle. Someone emerged from the shadows of the room and a clawed hand gripped her chin.

"What's so amusing, my dear? Are you enjoying my company that much?" Her head was raised by the clawed hand and she found herself staring into the eyes of the goat demon.

"Kaelus…" she whispered, straining to focus her eyes on him. "How…? I killed you…"

"Ah, I must admit that you caused quite a… mess. But I only expected as much from you. You were after all my favourite, the toughest of my pets. The others were never so… durable. They all broke so easily." Kaelus shook his head. "When you left us and joined that cursed son of Sparda, I had to find another. It wasn't easy, I had to search hard to find a good replacement. Go through all my knick-knacks."

A sudden grip in her hair pulled her head back and Trish found herself staring into the darkness above her. The hot steel that had seared her back was making the skin on her jugular bubble. Someone hissed in her ear. Kaelus smiled. "I found something useful, though. Something I had forgot I had lying around." He made a beckoning gesture. The heat from the red hot poker vanished and with a final tug of Trish's hair the person standing behind her sauntered into view.

Trish stared at the blonde woman now walking out from behind her and snuggling up to Kaelus. She couldn't believe her eyes. "Eva…" she whispered with numb lips. "You're dead. I … saw you…dead."

Kaelus chuckled. "No, not Eva. Even though she is spawned from her, just like you. This is Lea. She's in fact your elder, if that is the correct term. She has proven herself to be quite useful. Maybe I'll send her up to the son of Sparda. Would he be able to tell the difference? She is of course all human, not mixed with demon like you." Kaelus grinned and pulled Lea's slender body closer. "But she's a lovely playmate." Trish could see how a content expression passed over Lea's face. She was clinging affectionately to Kaelus whilst giving Trish a menacing look.

"She can't speak of course; I cut her tongue out years ago. I like my pets to be silent." Kaelus rubbed his chin and gave Trish a thoughtful look. "Maybe I should have cut out your tongue too. You are too beautiful to have such a foul mouth."

"Go fuck yourself," Trish growled hoarsely.

"Which proves my point perfectly." Kaelus gestured towards Trish. "Lea, cut her tongue out."

Lea took the dagger from her belt with a content smile and advanced on her chained doppelgänger. Trish could see the hate and madness shining from her eyes. It was clear that she longed to get rid of the competition for Kaelus affection. Trish blocked out the pain from her abused arms as she gripped the chains above her head and tensed her whole body. She knew she had only one shot at defending herself. Black spots had started to invade her vision and she felt herself teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. Staring fixedly at Lea, Trish waited for her moment to act.

Lea raised her arm and stepped closer. She reached for Trish's face, grinning madly. Trish tightened her grip on the chains and with a growl quickly pulled up her legs and hooked her right foot behind Lea's neck. Her other naked foot pressed against the side of Lea's chin. Trish hesitated for a second, and then with a hard jerk she snapped her neck. Lea's body slumped to the floor as Trish swung back limply in her chains, swallowed by unconsciousness again. Kaelus stared at the body on the floor. It was twitching lightly. A roar broke through his lips and he lunged at Trish.

"YOU B-" Kaelus froze in his tracks as a growl cut through his angry daze. A large Shadow blocked his way and it continued growling as it slunk closer to Trish's lightly swinging body. Kaelus look around and suddenly realised that darkness had started to crowd the room. It snaked across the floor as if it was a living creature, engulfing the objects in its path.

"Do you mean to harm my daughter, Kaelus?" A husky voice rang out from the shadows, making Kaelus bare his teeth. A slim female became visible. If was as if she had formed out of the shadows that surrounded her. Her waist length golden hair gave more cover than the shear pieces of clothing that she wore. Thin chains fashioned with silver bells encircled her ankles, jingling as she sauntered across the floor. A cold smile showed a hint of sharp pointy teeth. She walked over to Trish who was hanging limply in her chains. She tilted Trish's head up and studied her face. Frowning she then let it fall back down again.

"I liked her better when she didn't look like that weak human wench." She absent mindedly patted the Shadow's head, making it purr with delight.

"Mara…"Kaelus tried to hide the irritated growl in his voice. The female gave him a questioning look. "I was going to bring her to you. I was just… detained."

"I know you were, but I also know that you have a tendency to play with your prey. That's why I thought it better to come get her myself." Mara waved dismissively towards Trish. "Take her down."

Kaelus obediently loosened the chains and took Trish's unconscious body in his arms. Giving Mara a quick glance he stalked towards the darkest corner of the room. The murky darkness reached out for the burden in his arms and enveloped it, swallowing it whole. The goat demon stepped back quickly and made way for the Shadow that slunk into the dark, disappearing with a final menacing growl. Mara followed her pet towards the shadows and as she passed Kaelus brushed her hand over his arm, drawing blood with her sharp fingernails.

"Don't forget your place, Lord Goat. I will be the next ruler of the Underworld so you'd better keep on my… good side." She gave him a final cold smile before she melted into the darkness.

Kaelus clenched his fists, muffling the growl his visitor always stirred in him. He knew that Mara was too dangerous to anger. Her whole nature was after all death.


End file.
